


Mandrake Season

by Remember_to_be_Gentle



Category: Cloud Meadow (Video Game), DC x Cloud Meadow, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal, Aphrodisiacs, Breeding, Drugs, Egg Laying, F/F, Forced Pregnancy, Inflation, Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Overstimulation, Plants, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Tentacles, Vaginal Fingering, Vines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remember_to_be_Gentle/pseuds/Remember_to_be_Gentle
Summary: Every spring, however, Ivy doesn’t leave her house. At first, you thought it was because she was busy with her own garden and getting new fertilizers ready for summer, but none of her neighbors saw her out in her yard. Curious, you decide to investigate.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Reader, Poison Ivy/Reader
Kudos: 184





	Mandrake Season

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Cat girl anon. Srry I didn’t read the bio. But speaking of cloud meadow. (I’m probably going to end up buying because of you) have you ever thought about a dc au. I mean Selina Kyle obviously. But technically poison ivy could be considered a Druid or plant hybrid that obviously could use some breeding.

Trigger Warning: Breeding, tentacles/vines, (plant) eggs, inflation, drugs, anal, pregnancy (kinda), (sudden) lactation, overstimulation, fingering, non con

Ivy isn’t a breeder, but she spends a lot of time around farms selling her homemade fertilizers and leftover seeds. Everyone knows Ivy, plus she’s impossible to miss with her flaming red hair (the source of her nickname, Poison Ivy), wrapped vine limbs, and intelligence sharp enough to cut steel.

Every spring, however, Ivy doesn’t leave her house. At first, you thought it was because she was busy with her own garden and getting new fertilizers ready for summer, but none of her neighbors saw her out in her yard. Curious, you decide to investigate. Her windows were open, black mesh hanging behind it to block any view from what was inside while still letting in fresh sunlight. Curious. You knocked on the door. “Ivy?”

You heard something clatter. “Go away.” It was Ivy’s voice. 

“Dr. Isley?” You pushed on the door, “Is everything okay? We’re, er, I’m kind of worried about you.”

Panicked breathing and ruffling. “Don’t worry bout me, just get out of—Ugh!”

She sounded like she was in pain. Was she hurt? “Ivy!” You burst through the door, searching for any sign of danger, any reason for Ivy to have made such a pained noise, and then you understood: she was in the plant version of a heat. You knew this because her entire living room was filled with sacks of unfertilized eggs, green and plump, begging for a nice host to incubate in.

“I told you not to…” She was leaning against the wall, filling another sack with eggs, sweating dripping down her face as she held one of her vines. It was swollen, the shapes of eggs clearly visible through it. “Get out.”

“You look like you’re hurt.”

She snarled, “You’re going to be the one hurt if you don’t leave.”

You understood that it was the pain talking, this was a year’s worth of menstruation happening all at once. “It’s okay, Ives,” you said, “I understand. Why don’t I get you a hot towel or something?”

The front door slammed shut, darkening the room. You whirled around to see a long green tentacle behind it, more slithering from every direction toward you. “I told you,” she said, “I warned you and you didn’t listen. Whatever happens next is your fault.”

A tentacle wrapped up your legs, yanking you down onto the floor. Your head hit the coffee table, your vision splitting as pain shot through your head. A white ringing started somewhere far away. You struggled to get back up, but another tentacle was wrapping around your arms, keeping you pinned down. Upon closer look, you realized it wasn’t a tentacle but a vine, a thick and course thing with little flowers sprouting on the edges. Ivy’s vine.

Ivy crawled on top of you, panting hard as she ripped off your clothes, exposing you before exposing herself. She didn’t give you a moment to process, a vine snaking up between your legs and pressing into your cunt. This was one was different from the ones holding you down. This was thick, swollen, and smooth as it rubbed up and down at your lower lips. This was the vine she’d been holding to fill her sack. “My eggs,” Ivy groaned, “just want somewhere warm to grow.” The vine released a sticky fluid across your entrance, gathering it up to use as lubricant. Every twitch of the vine hot electricity crawling up your skin, nipples hardening. It must have been some kind of aphrodisiac, something that would benefit the host in the wild before being forced to carry her eggs. “And now you’ve given it to them.” It pushed inside, stretching out your walls, pushing in until it reached your cervix, the head of it slipping past and—further? 

You couldn’t focused, white hot pleasure making you scream, toes curling as headache ceasing as the only thing you could focus on was the vine inside of you and everywhere Ivy touched you. 

Ivy shivered, a low moan escaping her throat. “So tight,” she purred, “I can’t—.” The tentacle felt like it doubled in size, swelling rapidly until you realized, under the thick haze of pleasure, it was laying an egg. It popped through into your uterus, pain and pleasure making your skin prickle. Your core tightened. For a moment you thought you were rejecting the egg, but when a throaty scream erupted from your lungs you understood you were about to cum. 

And then another one. And another. Your core kept tightening as they pressed against each our, the eggs soft but not soft enough to conform to your shape. Another egg and your stomach started to rise. It was an endless stream now, more and more, you belly becoming crowded distending with her brood. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm, but each egg passing through your tight muscle kept stimulating your further, making it easier to reach your next orgasm and even easier the next and—. You couldn’t stop screaming, your mind completely gone in pleasure. 

You looked pregnant filled with her eggs, completely stuffed. They seemed to twitch inside you, shuffling around as if they knew they’d found a host.

The vine inside you slipped out of your pussy and then pushed into your ass, releasing the rest of her load. Your abdomen ached as it grew again, your stomach enormous and distended in front of you. You couldn’t even move, just the thought made your bones ache.

You empty cunt twitched, aftershocks from pleasure unlike anything you’d ever experienced before still raking through your body. 

Ivy helped you sit up and leaned you against her coffee table, slipping out her vine as she did. “Did that hurt?” She asked, knowing full well you couldn’t respond. She kissed your check and then your neck, reaching a hand down to your sopping pussy. “It’s okay, this will feel good.” She pinched your swollen clit between her fingers, gently rolling it between her forefinger and thumb. You whimpered, completely exhausted and sore. Her other hand came up to grope your breast, igniting a hot sensation inside your breasts. You whimpered, it was all you could do, feeling the eggs shift as your cunt squeezed at nothing, it wanted something inside, despite how overwhelmed you were mentally, your body was preparing for more. What was happening?

“Stop,” you whined, “I—.”

“It’s fine,” she said pulling at your nipple, something searing leaking from your nipples. “You’ve got a farm right? You should be used to this.” She pinched your nipple harder, more milk draining, and then ran a hand down your swelling breast, held up by your full belly. She massaged your areola and then pulled again, hot fluid leaking down her hand. “You’re already lactating. I’m sure you’ll make a great mother.” She kissed your throat again, this time making her way to your ear. “I’ll help you lay this batch and then we’ll put the next one in.”


End file.
